


Oh, Captain

by Smeowg



Category: Jojo Rabbit (2019)
Genre: F/M, Hospital, Jojo Rabbit, Nurse - Freeform, SOLDIER - Freeform, Sam Rockwell - Freeform, Wartime, captain klenzendorf - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:48:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22191328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smeowg/pseuds/Smeowg
Summary: The captain is brought to your hospital following a battle injury.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Oh, Captain

The room smells of blood and gunpowder. Making your rounds was getting more difficult as the days went on – too many men coming through your ward to never leave, too many wounds that needed more time and more resources. Cot by cot, you make your way down the line and take your notes – blood loss, fever, amputation healing better than expected.  
  
The ward’s doors burst open behind you, men are shouting, “Schnell! Schnell! Artzin!”  
  
You note the two men carrying in another clearly unconscious man in a captain’s uniform, “On this bed! What happened?”  
  
The men lay the other on the cot and you see his face has bandages all down the right side. One of the soldiers wipes blood off his hands, “There was an attack. We thought we had the higher ground. Captain K here, his plan didn’t work. We lost most of our men.”  
  
You wave a nurse over to bring a washcloth and warm water, “Let me assess the damage. Please, go rest.”  
  
The two soldiers salute, “Danke,” one of the men gives a lingering look at the damage before exiting the ward.  
  
The wounds look deep, but non-lethal. As you remove the bandages, you wipe the dried blood. A nurse arrives with stitching tools and pain reliever, “Ma’am, I can take over.”  
  
You shake your head, “No, I will take care of the captain here. Leave the tools with me.”  
  
The nurse nods and attends to other men. You begin to stitch the cuts scattered down the captain’s neck and jawline. The blood made the injuries look worse than they were. You pull the last bandage off, the one covering his right eye, the lid is covered in small cuts from shrapnel. Gently you open the lid with your finger, the eye is bloodshot. A hand grabs your wrist.  
  
“Where am I?” The captain mutters, his eyes remain closed.  
  
“Excuse me – captain, I didn’t know you were awake,” your arm was still in his tight grip, “There was an accident. Your men brought you here. What do you remember?”  
  
He furrowed his eyebrows, “I can’t think with this pounding in my head,” He let go of your arm.  
  
“Your injuries don’t seem life threatening, but please relax. I was examining your eye,” you put a warm rag over his wounded eye.  
  
“My eye? What’s wrong with my eye?” he rips the cloth off and opens his eyes, “Everything is blurry…what’s wrong?”  
  
He tries to sit up, but you gently push him back down onto the cot, “Please relax. You were attacked. You’ve lost blood and I need to finish examining your eye.”  
  
The captain obliges and leans back onto the bed, “What about my men?”  
  
“Two men brought you in, that’s all I know. I’m sorry,” you start to clean the blood off his eye, he winces, “I could try to find out more about your men, Captain…?”  
  
“Klenzendorf.”  
  
“Captain Klenzendorf,” you pause, watching his breathing relax as you put a fresh bandage over his eye, “I promise I will do what I can.”  
  
“Danke, Frualein,” He mutters as he drifts back into sleep.  
  
The night shift doctor would be here soon, so you started gathering your things. As you put your coat on, a nurse steps into the office, “Excuse me, miss.”  
  
You turn, knowing already, “Yes?”  
  
“The doctor cannot make it in tonight and he’s instructed for you to work tonight as well,” She shuts the door as she leaves in an exhausted silence.  
  
You toss your coat and bag onto your desk and let out an annoyed sigh. Typical, you think, but pull yourself together.  
  
The night begins quiet. A few men coughing, one sick to his stomach, but nothing serious. The candles in the room have all burnt out. You hear someone clear their throat as you pass by, “Don’t you get to ever go home?”  
  
You turn to see the captain sitting up on his cot; the only other person awake in the room.  
  
“How are you feeling?” You lean against the cot’s frame.  
  
“Not too terrible. I thought I’d gone blind until my eyes adjusted to the dark,” You saw him smirk in the shadows.  
  
You offer him a hand, “Come on, let’s get you in the light so I can see how your eye is.”  
  
You lead him to your office and motion for him to have a seat in the chair, but he leans against your desk. As the lanterns light illuminates his face, you see the scars and you notice the grayed over eye. Your face falters.  
  
“How bad is it? Don’t tell me, I’m hideous!” He laughs to himself.  
  
Holding up one finger you ask him to follow it, both eyes move. You get closer, cover the grey eye with your hand – he winces at your touch, “Sorry,” you whisper and hold up two fingers, “how many fingers am I holding up?”  
  
“Zwei,” he replies and reaches out and runs his fingers over yours. His skin is warm.  
  
You cover his uninjured eye, hold up three fingers “Now how many?”  
  
He doesn’t answer at first, his brow furrows, “I can see the light, but I can’t make out your hand.”  
  
You uncover his eye, “I- I think the shrapnel cut your eye too deep,” you move in closer and put both hands on the sides of his face, you note the slight stubble, “I’m so sorry. I should have-“  
  
He puts a finger to your lips, “Don’t. It wasn’t you bombing us. Besides, I’m alive.”  
  
“You are,” You stare into his eyes, running a thumb over one of his cuts.  
  
“It’d be a shame to waste my second chance being mad over a silly eye,” The muscles in his cheek twitch and you don’t know if its from pain or nerves.  
  
He stands up straight and suddenly you’re looking up at him, your chest almost touching him Your hands slide to the back of his neck, “And what do you want to spend your second chance doing?”  
  
He leans in and places a soft kiss on your lips. Your heart flutters as you pull yourself closer to him and hungrily kiss him back. His mouth tastes of tobacco and winter air. His hands tangle into your hair, getting a grip to hold you in your place. Your legs shake, your knee gives out and in one swoop he turns you both around and pushes you up onto the desk.  
  
“Better?” He breathes into your neck. You nod and pull his face back up and kiss the cuts across his face. A hand runs up your thigh, you can feel the warmth of his touch through your hose. You reach down to begin pulling them down for him, but his hand grabs yours with strength, “Nein,” he whispers into your ear and rips the hose at the seam inside your leg. His other arm snakes up your uniform dress and around your back. He pulls you tightly against him, causing a gasp from your lips, as he slides the ripped fabric off you. His hands are rough with callouses as they slide back up your thigh and back.  
  
“This is highly inappropriate,” you pant into his ear as he kisses your neck.  
  
He smiles into the crook of your neck, “Do you know how long it has been since I’ve seen a woman?” You blush, thankful he can’t see your face. He moves from your neck to your collar bone, taking small nibbles at your skin as he undoes the buttons of your dress. With a trembling hand, he undoes the first, then the second – you sigh in anticipation as you watch him work his way down. He stops mid-way and separates the top of your uniform, admiring the shape of your body underneath. His eyes flash back to yours, “Let alone been with one such as yourself?”  
  
He massages your chest and you let your head roll back. He takes advantage of your exposed chest and neck as his other hand reaches up your back to unclasp what little remains on you. Your shoulders shrug the bra off. He tears his shirt over his head, never minding the buttons, and pulls you off the desk against him, skin to skin. He’s strong, but not too muscular. You trace the small scars along his chest, too shy to look up at his face. Your fingers trace down his chest to his stomach, scratching lightly, and come to rest on his belt buckle. You hear a catch in his breath as you begin to unbuckle it, only now brave enough to look him again in the eyes. You bite your lip and you undo the button and slide down the zipper of his pants. He picks you up by your waist, plants you back on the desk, and steps out of his clothes. Both exposed, your eyes search each other before you reach out to him with your legs, forcing him as close as he can be. He leans over you, pushing your back fully against the cold desk, causing you to arch your body towards his. Kissing you, he gently caresses your inner thigh, inching his hand towards you.  
  
Your hand finds his between your legs and guides him to where you want him, to where you need him. You jump as his fingers slide against you and you let go of his hand to let him take over. His fingers begin to rub you, not that you need anymore warming up. You rock your hips against his hand, silently begging him for more. He obliges and slides a finger into you.  
  
“How is that?” He whispers, attempting to hide his own eagerness.  
  
You can only nod as his finger pulses inside of you. He uses his free hand to bring one of your legs over his shoulder. He kisses it tenderly before he pulls his finger out and pushes himself into you. You let out an unintentional moan, but you block out any fear of having woken other patients. He allows your body to get used to the feeling before he pulls out slowly then pushes back in. Your eyes meet and you push your hips up to bring him in more – taking control of the pace. He grips on to your leg to regain control.  
  
“Please, please keep going,” You moan into your arm in an attempt to mute yourself.  
  
“Look at me,” his voice is almost a growl. You flutter your eyes open to focus on his features. His uninjured eye flashes with a hunger. His pace speeds up, you bite your lip and allow yourself to fall into the only the feeling of him inside you. You hook your leg back under his arm and around his waist to use it as an anchor to pull yourself up. He follows your lead and picks you up, pushes you against the wall, and kisses you while giving a final thrust up. All you can think about as you climax is how his mouth tastes of smoke and whiskey and of how good his arms feel around your body.  
  
He lets you down slowly, he smirks as you find your footing on shaky legs, “You got it?”  
  
You stumble once, but use his chest as a support, “I think I’ve got it.”  
  
“I need a smoke,” He finds his jacket, pulls out a cigarette and offers one to you.  
  
“No, thank you,” You look around for your clothing.  
  
“Suits yourself,” He pulls his shirt on and slides out the back door of your office.  
  
You manage to find your uniform, but your hose are useless. You turn back to the door and see his silhouette and small puffs of smoke coming from his mouth. You grab what you can and head outside.  
  
He turns when he hears you shut the door behind you and he smirks, almost choking on his smoke, “Well, I see you found something to wear.”  
  
You saunter over to him wrapped in nothing but his over-sized captain’s coat. He flicks his cigarette away, grabs you by the lapels, and pulls you in for a deep kiss. Breathless, he pulls away and laughs, “I’m going to have to get shot at more often.”


End file.
